somewhere, over the rainbow
by sing me a rainbow
Summary: Love, Sam Puckett thinks, is like skittles. There're so many sides to it, so many colors and thoughts and feelings—that one might call it a rainbow. This is just one of those rainbows; a Seddie moment for each colour, red to purple.


**A/N: Hi! It's been a long time since I wrote anything last, so here ya go! I've been working on and off on this for weeks, and it's finally done. Whew. It's basically a Seddie moment for each colour of the rainbow. Slightly AU, I guess. Here're the ages: **

**Red: 8**

**Orange: 10**

**Yellow: 15**

**Green: 16**

**Blue: 18**

**Indigo: 19**

**Purple: Twenties.**

**Yup. Well, enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: HAHAHAHAAH.**

"_Let no one who loves be unhappy, even love unreturned has its rainbow."_

_James Matthew Barrie _

_**Red **_

"Now, I want all of you to help Fredward adjust." The teacher says, patting Freddie on the head. "And remember that you are all friends….."

Sam Puckett stares intently at the new kid. He has large brown eyes and dark hair, and a shy sort of smile with a faint trace of dimples. His shoes are spotless; his red shirt perfectly ironed; and, well, he's sorta cute.

The bell rings, and everyone heads to the coatrooms for their lunches. Sam sits alone; Carly and Spencer are at an art convention, and the others shun her, calling her 'mean'. But never to her face.

She takes a bite of her bread but spits it out, discovering mold. As she heads to the trash, she spots the Freddie kid, also sitting alone, looking forlorn. So Sam does a very un-Samish thing.

She walks towards his table and introduces herself.

"Sam Puckett." She says briskly, eyeing his large lunch bag hungrily. "Whatcha got in there?"

Freddie, who at first looked relieved to have someone talk to him, now looks wary.

"My lunch. But you can't- HEY!"

Sam is reaching into the brown sack, giving the indignant boy next to her a devious grin. She digs through it, grimacing at the healthy foods inside. Oh well- she was too hungry to pick and choose. Finally, she digs out a large, shiny, brilliantly red apple.

She sees it reflected in her companion's eyes as he watches her with more puzzlement than anger. Slowly, deliberately, she takes a large bite out of the red flesh of the apple and chews. Freddie recovers from his shock, and attempts to grab it from her with a slightly pathetic swipe. But Sam takes another bite and another, relishing the look on her victim's face. When she finishes, she tosses the core in his direction and watches with satisfaction as his face turns a bright scarlet.

"Wow, Fredwad. Looking a little _red, _aren't we?"

And with that, she turns and walks away.

S*F~S*F~S*F~S*F~S*F~S*F

_**Orange**_

A tiny smear of orange paint. That's all Sam needs.

"LOOK WHAT YOU'VE DONE, FREDNUBS!"

Carly hisses, "Be quiet, Sam!" But Sam's unstoppable now. She's been looking for a good excuse to yell at/insult/emotionally scar Benson all day, and this is the perfect chance.

"S-s-am, I really d-didn't mean to-"

But Sam doesn't give a damn. All she knows is that Freddork stained her shirt, she's in a explosive mood, and that he's gonna pay.

She grabs her brush, dips it into the container of bright tangerine paint, and runs the brush all over Freddie's astonished face until he begins to resemble a carrot. She calms down, and ignoring his angry sputters, she goes back to her assignment, satisfied, until suddenly-

-an orange cascade of thick paint runs down her head and over her shoulders, the paint getting into her eyes and mouth and soaking her hair and shirt. Rubbing her eyes and mouth and too shocked to speak, she merely stares wide-eyed at the kid next to her.

Freddie has a smirk lining his features, and he knows that there is some grudging admiration in the look she is giving him. But that slight admiration- or Carly's restraining arm- doesn't stop her from lunging out of her stool and tackling an unfortunate Freddie to the ground and whacking him into the large pool of brightly orange paint.

Luckily for him, the teacher, hearing the commotion, manages to drag a deranged Sam away. As the two stand in the pool of orange, the teacher speaks-

"Benson, Puckett –detention."

S*F~S*F~S*F~S*F~S*F~S*F

But Sam says something that detention—something, that for Sam, counts as a compliment.

"You know, for a nub, you're all right."

S*F~S*F~S*F~S*F~S*F~S*F

_**Yellow**_

Freddie loves it when Sam wears yellow. For him, it brings out some of her intense personality and deepens it, lets him see the reasoning behind her actions. It makes her eyes bluer, her hair brighter, her smile wider. And it is when Sam is wearing yellow that he begins to fall in love with her.

It's the July before ninth grade, and the gang are at California (courtesy of Carly's dad.) Carly and Spencer want to spend more time with their father, leaving Freddie and Sam together. Alone.

Normally, Freddie would consider this a nightmare, and maybe he does a little, but the sun and ocean relaxes him. Before he knows, he's dozing, a drink slipping precariously in his hand.

But, of course, Sam won't stand for this. In one swift move, she dumps a handful of saltwater on Freddie's sleeping face. He splutters awake, salt stinging his eyes.

"I didn't come to California to sleep, Fredlumps. And even though I'm stuck with you for the day, I don't intend to watch you snore."

Freddie gazed blearily at Sam, who seems to be a streak of yellow. Oversized yellow Penny-Tee with the words _Window Chicken, _bright yellow swim shorts and neon flip-flops. Before he can say anything, she grabs him, slings him over one shoulder, and carries him across the beach to a small rental place with powerboats.

"You know how to powerboat?"

"Yeah. My dad taught me."

Freddie watches as she pays the sleepy-looking man behind the counter and jumps inside a boat, joined by a friendly, sunburned man with an accent who introduces himself as Greg..

The trip flies by, and Freddie has to admit—he's enjoying it. Sam is handling the boat like an expert while Greg watches behind her, occasionally commenting on a village or cloud or something. Sam's golden hair tumbles in the wind, and Freddie finds himself looking at her face, scrunched in concentration but nevertheless beauti-

-no. He wasn't thinking that. He was thinking of Carly. Carly Carly Carly.

Greg takes over the boat, and Sam, wiping her forehead, takes a seat next to him.

"You're really good at this, you know." Freddie compliments. Sam's face breaks into a smile. Not a smirk, not a sneer—a genuine smile.

"Thanks, nub."

The two sit in silence, watching the clouds go by and enjoying the wind in their hair. _Sam almost seems nice today_… _she really does._

When they get back to the hotel, Carly comments, "I'm glad you haven't killed each other while we were gone."

Sam shrugs. "It was hard, but I managed."

Freddie scowls at her, but he now knows this is just a game- a game that they're afraid to stop playing. So he makes the next move-

"Nyeahh."

"Nyeahh."

S*F~S*F~S*F~S*F~S*F~S*F

_**Green**_  
"Aw, mom, why does she have to spend Thanksgiving with us? I'm not gonna feel too thankful-just in mortal dread for my life." Freddie moans, looking out the window of the van moodily.

"No chiz, Benson." Sam remarks.

"Now, Fredward, be nice to your friend." Mrs. Benson admonishes, looking sternly at her son. "Carly is in Yakima, and Samantha's mother is-"

"-on a business trip." Sam finishes.

"Your mom has a _job?" _

"Sure."

The van pulls to a stop in front of Bushwell Plaza and Sam jumps out, followed by a very gloomy Freddie.

"Take my bag, Benson." says Sam, throwing her red bag onto Freddie's shoulder. Freddie's knees buckle under the weight.

"What's in here, rocks?" he gasps.

"No, ten packages of ribs." Sam says matter-of-factly. "Enough to last me a month or two."

Freddie smiles weakly, slings the beef onto his back, and follows Sam into the apartment.

"Freddie, I'm going to the ShopSmart to pick up some organic doughnuts. Remember your foot cream!"

"'Kay." Freddie says, heading into the elevator. Sam follows, and as the door slides shut, realization strikes Freddie with a bam.

_Wait. Being in an enclosed space? With Sam? What's wrong with me!_

He tries to escape, but the door is already closed. Sam gives a devilish smirk.

"What's the matter, Freddinator?"

Ignoring her, Freddie reaches into his pocket and pulls out a large green piece of fabric. Sam looks mildly interested.

"What's that?"

"A green screen. I'm using it for iCarly and I need to test it out. Wanna help?"

"Not really, but seeing as I'm stuck here for a week, I guess I've got nothing better to do."

The door opens, and Freddie, glad that he's not sustaining any injuries, leaps out and punches in the twenty-eight digit verification code.

"Chez Benson." he says, stepping in. Sam follows, looking skeptical.

The two step inside Freddie's room, and he's pleased to see her eyebrows rise. Until she opens her mouth, that is.

"Dork heaven." she says drily, fingering a Galaxy Wars ray gun.

"Hilarious." Freddie mutters. "You wanna test the green screen?"

"Whatever."

Taking this as a yes, Freddie begins to set up the large screen as Sam watches him with a bored expression. When it's up, he motions her forwards.

"Stand here and I'll change the background to whatever you like." he tells her, opening his laptop.

"Like your face?"

"Ha, ha."

Freddie fiddles with the computer. "We're ready!"

Sam does a dance. "What background?"

"A toilet." Freddie snorts.

Sam shoves him aside and tackles him onto his bed, her nose an inch from his. Her mouth curves into a smirk, the smirk that he lov-

No. No no no. He didn't want this. He didn't… right?

His head spins as she leans, closer and closer. He closes his eyes, but instead of feeling her lips on his, he feels something slimy poking into his ear. He leaps off the bed furiously.

"Sam!"

Sam gets to her feet also, grinning mischievously.

"In your dreams, Benson."

_**Blue**_."  
"Okay, Wendy. Truth or dare?" 

Midight is nearing, but the guests of Carly's hobo party show no signs of leaving. Wendy leans in closer, her face alight with excitement.  
"Truth."

"What is the most embarrassing thing that has ever happened to you?" 

"Well... a boy did see me naked." 

Everyone whoops, begging for details, but she leaves it at that. Her eyes scan the crowd for her next victim. 

"Sam." she grins. "Truth or dare?"  
Everyone knows what Sam will choose; she is a daredevil, but she never reveals more than she needs to. And sure enough, she answers with a confident 'dare'. 

"Hmm, let's see..." Wendy gives Sam an once-over and her eyes lock on her best feature- her long gold curls, now curlier than ever. She smiles almost apologetically as she announces the dare. 

"I dare you to dye your hair blue."

Sam blanches, feeling her long hair with one hand. She's not overly vain, but her hair and its colour reminds her of an old nickname from her dad, her dad who seems more like a memory to her than anything else anymore. As she searches for a way to back out, her eyes land on the dark-haired boy next to her. Freddie Benson. 

Sam won't won't won't ever admit this, but Freddie is the one guy she thinks about in THAT way, not even with Pete or Shane or Jonah or all the other guys in between. She finds herself being lost in his deep eyes, and before she knows it, she says something that she regrets immediately- 

"I'll do it if Freddie kisses me." 

Everyone looks shocked (Carly has a look of knowing in her face) but Sam has eyes only for the boy next to her, a cracked cup clutched in his hand, his mouth agape. Fredward, the total nub she's been in love with since forever, now looks at her, all feelings unveiled, nothing hidden behind taunts or teasing. As their eyes meet, Sam is sure of what he'll do. 

And sure enough, he leans (this time needing no invitation from her) lips pressing fiercely against hers, arms wrapping around her waist. The kiss is short; but to Sam, it's years long, years of pent-up feelings and yearning. They break apart slowly, ignoring the wolf calls and hooting, eyes only for each other.

S*F~S*F~S*F~S*F~S*F~S*F

No one is surprised the next day when Sam Puckett marches triumphantly down the halls of Ridgeway, her hair an electric blue.  
S*F~S*F~S*F~S*F~S*F~S*F

_**Indigo**_

They meet under the stars, under an ever-stretching field of deeply blue sky.

"Sam."

"Freddie."

"What, no nickname this time?"

"I was gonna try Frednoodles, but I thought it might ruin the moment."

"Wise choice."

Usually silence isn't common when they're together (just because they're together doesn't mean they've stopped bickering!) but this night is too perfect, too _something _to let go. So they stand; he laces his fingers over hers; and for that short moment they are one, united against the world, knowing that no words can express the flawlessness of the beautifully indigo sky.

S*F~S*F~S*F~S*F~S*F~S*F

_**Purple**_

Sam insists on her wedding dress being purple.

And not a light, flowing lilac, either, a bright, dazzling shade reminiscent of a highlighter. No one knows why—except, of course, her groom-to-be.

They've both agreed that purple is their colour; just like brown reminds Sam of gravy, purple reminds her of _them_. Mrs. Benson, Carly and Melanie aren't so crazy about the idea, but Spencer, of course, loves it and makes the dress himself. Even Sam's wacked-up mother is sort of confused- but neither of them cares.

It's raining as Sam walks down the aisle, accompanied by a very proud Spencer, wearing his "sophisticated glasses" for the occasion. It's not pouring hard enough to soak her, just dampen her a tad. Neither of them cares; Spencer's even humming along to the wedding march, arousing disgruntled looks from the band.

"So, you're gonna be Mrs. Benson soon." He teases her. Sam makes a face.

"If I start making cucumber cups and worrying about 'sharp things,' slap me. Hard." She mutters.

"You'll always be little Sammy to me."

As they reach the end of the aisle he gives her a hug, and over his shoulder she sees the people she's known for all of her life.

Melanie catches her eye first, beaming, tears—or rain, but probably tears—coursing down her cheeks. Gibby, reluctantly donning a suit and tie (Sam's sure they'll be ripped off soon enough.) Her mother, looking out-of-place with her many tattoos, including the one of her and Melanie's faces. And finally Carly. Sam knows that there's one person in life who you can't live without, and Carly's that person for her. Their eyes meet, and Carly gives a huge wink. _Go Sam! _She mouths.

Sam grins, breaking out of her hug and turning to Freddie.

"Hey, Fredlupe." She whispers.

"Hey, Mrs. Benson." He answers, smiling lovingly.

Instead of tackling him, she slides her hand into his and he grips tightly.

The ugly minister begins to talk, but Sam interrupts him. "Yeah, yeah, I do. Now skip to the good part, won't you?" Freddie secretly agrees, and adds, "I do, too."

The minister shoots a look at Freddie, almost as if saying _you poor bastard._ Not being a real minister and just some dude Sam's mom is dating, he shrugs.

"You may kiss the bride!"

Their lips meet before he's done speaking.

S*F~S*F~S*F~S*F~S*F~S*F

The rain is gone, and the sun peeks out shyly from beneath the clouds. The sky is a musky white, dimpled with grey. A long arc stretches across the horizon, glimmering with colour. It's love, it's hatred, it's so many things in between—it's a rainbow.


End file.
